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"Unbelievable———," Thorin scoffed.
"It must be a rare commodity. I know not of one who managed to slay a dragon, let alone harvest its blood."
❝ A rare commodity indeed--though you are looking
at one that has harvested the blood of a dragon. Ate
the beast's heart. I cannot say that I am unimpressed
with the results. ❞
The pubescent slave returned to Judas hurriedly, in his grasp, a cumbersome Roman blade — embellished with pagan symbolism. Designs so carefully etched into its greyish ingot nearly elevated the natural cunning appeal of a instrument made for slaughter. Aberrant woman she was, testing him considerably. Her lips did not propose beseeching, her confidence was admirable withal.
Rome’s Emperor took up arms.
❝You ‘rouse interest. From thine own deeds I can perceive thee well — mere woman? Nay … You will say why thee hath ventured this jaunt simply to not accede.❞
❝ Victory is for the living. ❞ She took up stance, a glint of
mischief in her eyes. Her own blade was the soul of herself
and another--she would not fail; she could not fail.
❝ And I intend to live. ❞ The closer she was to death, the stronger
she became. In the end, it would matter not if he were to land many
blows. Her own blood shed stirred the demons, waking them from
within the very depths of her mind and welcoming them to play
among the living. Her first swing was simple, though it was her quick
steps that oft served more as a worry. Armor did not hinder her, nor
did fear. ❝ And perhaps, in time, I will make you yield. ❞
＂Ｎo，I have not － nor have I have heard of it．Is that where I find myself now？＂
❝ You have found yourself close to the castle called Skyhold.
With the order of the Inqusition restored, it is mine and my
allies' base of operation. If you see fit, you may stay there until
you get your wits about you. ❞
"No, my fate was chosen for me by the dragon who stole my home."
❝ The Archdemon that plagued Ferelden was a dragon.
It seems that wherever one my go dragons cause such
misfortune. Though one supposes they have their uses--
drinking the blood of such a beast has its benefits. ❞
"They are upset primarily that they have been bested in the first place - a Lannister is taught from birth that he submits to no one, be it man, woman or child. Only their Liege Lord and their King. What is the custom with you…" He trailed off, leaving the stranger ample time to introduce herself.
❝ If they had come at me in groups of five or more then
it might have been a fair fight. ❞ She shrugged, as if it
simply couldn't be helped. ❝ Assara Adaar--Inquisitor,
formerly of Valos-kas. One can only presume that you are
their Liege Lord? ❞
❛ What land do you hail from? Seems you are not from
around these parts. Got that just by the way you speak.
It’s an oddly proper sort of way of talking, especially in
this day and age. Ah, yeah, I suppose so. What exactly
are you if you aren’t human? ❜
❝ Par Vollen--though, in truth, one doubts it exists in this realm. ❞
But apparently a lot of other things did--like weird mechanical
things people rode in and glass buildings that reached toward
the heavens. ❝ Kossith is the antiquated term. Most just call one's
race Qunari. ❞ She paused awkwardly, introductions an afterthought.
❝ --one's name is Assara. A...pleasure, albeit a strange one. ❞
anyone want to do a thing???
❝ Constantinus, arcesso mei mucro!❞
Clamour rang through their air, a rapacious noise meant to arrest the attention Iscariot’s good knave. Aforementioned greed laid but within his moral fabric, the genetic composition of his being — sprung when once a babe. This statuesque lady, stubborn as she was made of pallor, dared him so. Judas was starving for a proper reason to make an example out of someone, but withheld it behind a nationalist mask.
❝’Tis my duteous crown that shan’t be undermined by you, foreigner. Rome is far more gargantuan — greater than thee. Ergo, I shall relieve thine head. By spirit of your very words, I can discern Minerva’s lack of blessing — 't will not be much of a loss.❞
❝ One cares not for shadows, no matter how far they cast. ❞
The Inquisitor held little love for human egos. They were always
so very large--like those funny Orlesian hats she saw at parties.
❝Ashkost kata.❞
Her own blade was drawn fluidly, for her experience with a sword
far surpassed her experience with human greed. ❝ Whether you
fight me yourself or sick your soldiers on me--it will matter not
their numbers. Is it your intent for much blood to be shed? Your
people will find it quite odd when a mere woman lays waste to
their so called protectors. ❞
Stahma Tarr + whatever tickles your pickle (requested by sanguinaria)
sometimes i follow rp blogs that i just wanna stare at and sigh dreamily
anyone wanna do a thing?
❛ —— Earth. Russia, technically America.
It’s kind of this long, complicated story
that I won’t bore you with. Just an arm
really. Not a demon though, or whatever
else I would be. Just a boring old human.
—— a little more than just human though. ❜
❝ Oh--more words one does not understand.
Not that one is unused to it--rather, it seems the norm.
Yet that would be quite the opposite of 'boring', yes?
Being a little more than just a human can mean a
number of things. --the one is not human herself, one
assumes so. ❞
❝ 'Minister punishment unto yourself? I hath bled women before by mine own hand … 't would be such a shame, your stature and fair-tresses made to waste.❞
❝ One does no such thing.
For your blood would be first
to shed if you were to draw
blade at me. ❞
❝--so, the arm. T'is no form of magic.
Not even alchemy. Though one admits
the Qun's sciences are much more infantile.
What land do you hail from, to have such a
thing? Or do the tears in the sky bring forth
more than just demons?❞
Your first impression of me? (Anonymous or not)
❝ And one is not a Roman.
So why should one bow to you?
One does not bend knee for
every man with crown she comes
across.❞
